On the Radio
by lea michele
Summary: Quick. Puck always kept his radio around, which is why he was the first to hear about the school shooting.


Noah Puckerman always kept the radio on while he was at work. He always liked to be in the know about things, so whenever anything interesting went down, he would be the first one to hear about it. It was always tuned to his favorite news station, which gave just the facts and only the facts, and in the meantime played old school rock until something fascinating and news-worthy happened. He kept it turned down so that it wouldn't annoy his boss, but loud enough that he could hear it over the other guys in the shop. He only left the radio alone when he was dealing with a car or a customer, and even then, he attempted to keep it in earshot. It was always near him, no matter what, which was why he was the first one to hear the announcement. It was a simple string of words, something that really didn't catch Noah's attention until it was repeated.

"An armed man entered Lima Elementary School and has threatened to open fire if his demands are not met. Breaking news, an armed man entered Lima Elementary School and has threatened to open fire if his demands are not met."

_Armed, armed, gun, guns, opening fire, shooting, death, Lima Elementary, school…school…Quinn!_ Noah's thoughts were rapid and immediately he leapt out from underneath the car he was working on, running to his radio and gripping it tightly, practically shouting at it to give him more news.

"Tell me something! What's happened? Has he shot anyone? Is she…God, answer me!" He shouted, shaking the piece of machinery. One of his co-workers popped their head out of the office located in the back of the shop.

"Puckerman, what's wrong?" They asked, and he ignored them, holding up the radio to his ear.

"There…there have been shots from inside the school, SWAT team is standing by,"

"Standing by! What the hell! _Get in there and save her, dammit!_" Noah shouted, hurtling the radio down at the floor, smashing it into pieces.

"Puckerman!" Another one of his co-workers shouted from the doorway, but Noah was too far gone to care. It was like something had been switched in his brain. Everything had seemed normal this morning. He had woken up before her, kissing her forehead goodbye, and now everything was going wrong, downhill, bad, she was in danger and he wasn't there to save her.

He shoved his way past them, grabbing his keys and running to his car, unlocking the doors clumsily and starting the car, peeling out of the parking lot and speeding towards the school, his fingers frantically trying to find the news station.

"SWAT team is trying to diffuse the situation; the man has taken hostages, a fourth-grade class,"

_Not hers, please, God, _not hers_!_ Noah thought, pounding his fist against the dashboard. He sped up, trying to reach the school.

"There have been more gunshots, SWAT team is moving in, and…"

"And what? _And what?_" Noah shouted, taking a sharp turn to the left.

"And…here comes the first kid, rushing to his parents,"

"I don't care about the kids, the teacher, tell me the teacher!" Noah yelled, pulling into the school parking lot, screeching to a stop between several news vans, jumping out of the car and running to the crowd gathered around the front of the school. They were held back by yellow police tape, but he shoved his way to the front, straining to run into the school.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to move back from the tape." A police officer approached him, gently pulling Noah's arm.

"My wife is in there! My wife, the teacher, someone, God, _let me in there!_" Noah screamed.

"Paramedics have gone in to check on the injured, please sir; I need you to move back and out of their way." The police officer said, pulling Noah's arm harder to pull him out of the way of the two medics who were running out of the school, a stretcher spread between them.

_No,_ he thought, his eyes widening as he watched the stretcher run past them. There was a flash of yellow, golden, hair, pale skin, a sparkle of sunlight reflected in diamond. He didn't have to see anymore to know that was his wife lying there, hanging onto life by a thread.

"Quinn? Quinn!" He shouted, pushing away from the officer to the ambulance.

"Sir-"

"That's my wife you have there, dammit! I don't care about whatever the hell you have to do, I have to see her!" Noah barked, banging his fist against the side of the van. The paramedics jumped, obviously startled, and Noah resisted the urge to growl at them. They exchanged a glance.

"You can ride in the back with her, sir, but we need you to stay out of our way." They opened the doors and Noah shoved his way in, freezing when he saw her. She was just…laying there, her eyes shut, and her chest moving up and down shakily. He would have thought she was just sleeping had it not been for the huge spattering of red all over her chest and stomach.

"Quinn," he whispered, clambering to her side and grabbing her hand. It was still warm, and he could feel a pulse. It was barely there, but it was there, and he squeezed her hand gently. "Quinn, please, wake up," he whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. The paramedics jumped into the back, shutting the doors, and Noah was vaguely aware of the ambulance starting up and driving away, but his focus was not on either of those things. His focus was on her, how her chest was rising and falling, but barely, and how her hand was faintly warm, nothing like her usual hot skin, and how the red was spreading and seemed to get bolder as time went on. They began hooking her up to machines and oxygen and IV drips, monitoring her heart rate. The steady beeping became something like a beacon of hope to Noah. The beeps meant she was still there with him, she was still alive, she still had a chance.

They reached the hospital and they pulled him away from her, telling him he could wait in the waiting room until they had gotten her stable. Of course, he refused, following them right up to the door. They insisted he wait outside to let them do their job faster, and he only complied because he could hear the faint beeping of the monitor from outside. He sank down to the ground, praying to any and every God he could think of.

_Let her survive. Let her be okay. Let me tell her I love her at least one last time, let me be able to tell her I love her a thousand times more, please. We…please, it's only been a year, she's got so much ahead of her, we were going to buy a house, start a family, please, dear God, let her be okay._

It seemed like hours until the doctors came back out again. Noah thought maybe he had fallen asleep, which would explain why he was so groggy when the doctor kneeled down and shook him.

"Mr. Puckerman?"

"Yes?" He answered sleepily, rubbing his eyes and trying to wake up. "Can I see her now? Can I go in there, please?" The doctor's face looked grim and tired, and he shook his head.

"I need to speak with you first, Mr. Puckerman." Something in the tone of his voice had the hairs on the back of Noah's neck standing on end.

"What is it?" He whispered, staring up at the doctor, begging, pleading, with his eyes.

"Your wife was shot twice, once in the abdomen and once in her chest. The second bullet missed her heart, but hit her lung. We…I tried everything I could, Mr. Puckerman, to save them, but I couldn't." Noah's brain couldn't wrap around the sentence. It was simple, he knew, just like the one from earlier, but it didn't click in his head.

"Them?" He managed to ask, looking back up at the doctor.

"Your wife was two months pregnant, Mr. Puckerman. I am so sorry for your loss." Noah stared blankly at the doctor, the words not sinking in. _Two months pregnant…I couldn't save them…sorry for your loss…_ The words bounced around until finally something hit him and he felt his face drain of color, and he scrambled up, whirling around.

"This is some sick joke, isn't it? Let me in there to see my wife!" Noah said, his voice low and threatening. The doctor pursed his lips but stood aside.

"You can go in and see her if you'd like." Noah shoved his way past the doctor, pushing into the room. There she was, just lying there, eyes closed, hair out of her face. Her blood-stained clothes had been removed, replaced with a clean pink hospital gown. He walked forward, staggering, sinking into the chair next to the bed, grabbing her hand. It was cool, but the faint fluttering pulse from earlier was gone. It was then he noticed the silence. The heart monitor had flat-lined. Her heart had stopped. She was gone.

_They were gone._ Noah's other hand moved up to her stomach, resting on top of the blanket. She had been pregnant. They were going to have a child. She had been hoping for one so badly, a small baby boy, she had said, her eyes shining with excitement as she imagined the blue trimmed nursery. Noah squeezed his eyes shut.

"Q…he was going to be beautiful, I'm sure of it. I'm sure he is, up there with you. I love you, Q, I love you so much, and I wish I would have been able to tell you that this morning. I love you with everything I've got, Q…I don't know what I'm going to do without you. You know how hopeless I am without you, Q. You always said I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on my shoulders, remember? Of course you remember, you haven't been gone very long. God, Quinn…what am I going to do? I'm going to miss you. You have to help me. I don't know what to do. You have to come back and help me, please, I don't know what I'm going to do without you, I don't know how I'm going to do it. God, Q, please, don't leave me, don't leave me, please." Noah whispered, his voice wavering and breaking as the tears began streaming down his face. He waited there for an hour, waiting until he had cried his last tear and whispered his last word, wiping his eyes and leaving the room.

The funeral was hell. He guessed it was pretty, and it was just like she would have wanted. Simple and clean. The pastor said a few words, and Noah was offered a time to speak, but he declined, unsure if he could say anything without breaking down. Everyone came. Well, everyone she knew. There were their old friends, who had either flown down or driven up, and her kids, and their parents. Everyone offered their condolences, patting Noah on the back or giving him a hug. He was numb. He saw everyone, and heard them, but it was like he was standing behind a sheet of glass that warped everything he perceived. He had just dropped the white rose into the ground and whispered a last I love you and goodbye and turned around to leave when a small boy walked up and tugged on his jacket sleeve.

"Mr. Puckerman?" The boy asked, squinting his eyes as he stared up at Noah. Noah nodded, unable to say anything.

"I'm supposed to give you this. Mrs. P gave it to me when the man came into our school and told me to give it to you." He said, pulling a slightly crumpled envelope out of his pocket, holding it up. Noah took it slowly, and the kid ran back to his parents, leaving Noah alone again. He looked down at the envelope. On the front, in her neat handwriting, was his name. He could feel his hands start to tremble, so he shoved the letter into his pocket and quickly walked to his car. Once he was in the front seat, door shut and completely alone, he pulled it out, careful to open it with caution. The paper he pulled out smelled like her perfume. He unfolded it, leaning back in his seat to read it.

_Noah,_

_If you're reading this, then I didn't make it. I know I don't have a lot of time, so I'll try to make this quick. Promise me that you won't get revenge on whoever the man is. I'm sure the judiciary system or his conscience has handled that well enough, and I don't want you getting in trouble. I love you. You know that, right? I'm sorry I didn't tell you that this morning. But I love you with everything I've got, Noah. I'll try to help you as best as I can, if I'm allowed to do that kind of thing. You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on your body, wouldn't you? _

_We were going to have a baby. Maybe you know that by now. I don't know what gender it was going to be. I hoped for a boy, but I know you always wanted a girl. You couldn't fool me. I knew you always wanted to be a good dad to a little girl. Do you think we could have handled a girl? You were always so overprotective. _

_I can hear him coming. I love you, Noah Puckerman, with all my heart. I always will._

_Love, Quinn_

He stared down at the paper, his thumb rubbing fondly over her signature.

"I love you too, Q." He whispered. He stared at the paper for a few seconds before gently folding it, slipping it back into the envelope and laying it on the passenger's seat.

_Keep her happy up there,_ he thought, sparing a glance to the sky before starting the car and slowly driving away.


End file.
